Strings of Hope
by Ducky and Izzy
Summary: Unable to face the realities of her broken family and the stresses of school, Aisha finds herself buried in the monotonous routines of day-to-day life - except one arrogant boy always seems intent on making things even worse. Somehow, a chance encounter leads her to discover a side of him that she had never imagined...


Hey guys, here's a story another friend of mine wrote and I edited about 2 years ago.

Can't resist a nice ElswordxAisha story ;)

Also, we have a poll on our bio and would love it if you could please vote on whether you want us to write:

1\. A crime thriller with fast cars, hackers and shootouts  
2\. A novelisation of the original Elsword plot  
3\. A story about the characters in high school

Please PLEASE vote as it would mean a lot to us and we'd like to make a start on the story right away as we have SO many ideas!

Thank you and enjoy the story! :)

\- Izzy

* * *

Strings of Hope

Letting an exhausted sigh escape her lips, Aisha let her eyes wander over the towers of worksheets scattered haphazardly before her. The overwhelming heat and humidity did nothing to improve her lethargy, her usually unwavering enthusiasm towards education instead replaced with that of distraction. For the past few months, she had tried to escape the harsher realities of life by indulging herself in what she was best at, and to a point, enjoyed - schoolwork. But even that had now lost all its appeal, her days becoming bland, depression continuously snacking away on her sanity. She found herself becoming increasingly irritable, continuously searching for an outlet to channel her frustration. She buried her head in her arms. Everything good was in the past, and now she didn't know what was ahead of her. Pushing away the thoughts for a better time and choosing to scowl instead, she shoved her books miserably into her already overflowing bag and ignored the scandalised expression the librarian shot her way.

Being so absorbed in her thoughts, Aisha found herself being constantly shooed from the school library, where she had caged herself every afternoon in the hopes of delaying her journey home.

"Miss! I understand your desire to stay, but you simply cannot disrespect these books in such a careless manne-"

Normally, Aisha would have simply bowed her head and apologised. Today, however, she merely huffed, cut the woman off with a curt, "Excuse me." and turning sharply on her heel, stalking out of the library. Guilt started building immediately, yelling at her to go and take back her actions. Aisha did nothing of the sort.

Instead, she crashed headlong into someone, and for a moment, she returned to a time of hugs and kisses on foreheads, and it occurred to her, that she missed them. A snicker pulled her back down to Earth, and the now-mixed emotions in her gut turned immediately into barely-subdued simmering frustration.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the class prez. I know I'm absolutely _dashing_ but there's really no need to crash into me and go off into a daze."

Groaning audibly, Aisha muttered some incoherent choice words under her breath before raising her head to death-glare a tall, smirking boy. He was clad in a black cropped vest, a white hoodie and dark pants that were loose and baggy. His messy hair matched in colour with the crimson runes tattooed onto each of his forearms, one of which had a leather band wrapped around the wrist.

The boy mocked her words sarcastically, "Of course, I would _love_ to go dashing off to my home in the ninth circle of hell. But alas, I don't belong. I'm far too young, too sweet, and wounded by love to die."

Gritting her teeth, Aisha prayed to the Lord Phoru that just for today, he would leave her alone.

"You know, for Little Miss Purple-and-Perfect, you are uncharacteristically subdued today," he remarked before adding with a smirk, "Although I've always had that effect on people."

Having heard enough, Aisha raised her head sharply and her violet eyes glinted with rage. She vented the past few months of turmoil into bitter and exaggerated remarks, spitting vehemently.

"You know, I honestly expected _nothing_ better from you, you worthless, good-for-nothing asshole," she snapped. Shoving past him roughly, she mumbled almost inaudibly, "An apology for bumping into me would've sufficed."

Pausing at the end of the corridor, she glanced back at his still form and three blunt words left her lips, slicing through the tense air.

"I hate you."

* * *

She could already hear their raised voices from the front door. Aisha didn't bother to announce her presence. Rather, she was afraid of what she might witness. The first few arguments were traumatising enough - and yet she kept trying. But it only succeeded in providing her new nightmares each and every single time. Every single day, she would walk up the steps to her "home", dreading what lay behind the door. Every single day, she would walk in and feel like a foreigner. Because to the other inhabitants, she didn't exist.

She felt pathetic, helpless, and weak; as if she was trapped in an endless stalemate. She was losing herself.

Aisha made her way up to her room and slammed the door behind her, making sure that it was locked. She had nothing to distract herself with, so she slept. Or tried to. The three words that came rushing out of her mouth out of anger kept replaying inside of her head, and she groaned, rolling over onto her side.

The rush of words that had tumbled out of her mouth had been reserved for her father and another one of those lipstick-laden women he took home for the night, and yet she kept trying to convince herself that he deserved it. He did… right? He was just like her father; and she hated him for it. Sighing, she closed her eyes briefly before turning her gaze towards the ceiling. It was all just so messed up.

* * *

She woke abruptly from her restless sleep. Her father, drunk, had come up to her door at three in the morning asking her to admit him into the room to talk. She had ignored him. Then all of a sudden he was banging on the door, yelling and cursing until just as suddenly, he went away. Aisha hugged the covers closer, and a single tear slid down her cheek.

* * *

Another day passed and again, Aisha found herself in the library. She worked through the day's homework with little interest before heading off, taking a longer route through an area of the school which she barely registered. As she neared the door however, she noticed a resonating strum in the background, barely noticeable. A guitar. Aisha made her way over to the closed door and opened it, soft clear notes reaching her ears. Precise fingers picked in swift motions at the strings, enticing a slow and sweeping lull, which blossomed suddenly in bold and powerful chords of anger, confusion and fear. Regret poured into a bittersweet tune, dying down into soft, yet steady, arpeggios. Aisha stood in shock. A boy with scarlet hair sat, surrounded by an assortment of percussion sets and music stands. Her mind was racing, her thoughts conflicting in a silent, internal battle. How could _he_ , the vain, arrogant boy who made her life _hell_ move her with a simple melody? It couldn't be him, she assured herself. It was impossible.

"Elsword?"

His stiffened visibly cutting the flow of sound to a sudden stop, and shifted slowly in order to face her, eyes wide in shock for just a single moment before he dropped their momentary gaze, cheeks turning into a light pink. He fiddled with his capo, biting his bottom lip in the tense silence while Aisha simply stood in the doorway, emotions and a stubborn disbelief rushing through her head.

Eventually he stood, resting the guitar gently against the wall before walking steadily over to her. She took a step back, but was stopped by Elsword's hand on her wrist. He pulled her closer to him with surprising gentleness, before looking over her shoulder into the empty corridor and closing the door quickly.

He let his eyes rest on the door for a moment longer, before turning to Aisha and reaching up to her face tentatively. Lifting her chin with barely concealed hesitation, he sighed and looked away, before setting his eyes back on her and wiping tears that she did not even realise she had. And then he wrapped his arms around her. Aisha froze, and a small gasp escaped her open mouth.

"E-Elsword?"

He hugged her tighter, and bowed his head so that Aisha could feel his steady breath tickling her skin. His intense heat encompassed her, and she melted into his hug, letting all of her exhaustion escape into his touch.

"H-hey, I'm sorry for yelling at you yesterday. I didn't mean it, and-"

He cut her off with an amused chuckle, "The renowned ice queen of a class president is actually apologising?"

Aisha scowled at him, and pulling herself out of the hug, turned away so that she could hide the smile threatening to break out across her face. She did it a moment too late however, and Elsword crossed his arms casually, mocking her with his signature smirk, "She smiles! I didn't know it was possible."

"Oh shut up!" she huffed.

The redhead simply stuck his tongue out at her, earning a punch on the arm immediately, causing him to jump back and mutter, with some rather colourful language, something incoherent about girls, violence and bruises.

Aisha watched him walk back to his guitar, still grumbling under his breath, before bending down to pick it up. The unassuming instrument reminded her suddenly of the reason she was in this room in the first place, and she took a step forward, hesitation clearly showing on her hopeful face.

"Um… can I hear the rest of the song?" she asked, making Elsword pause and run his fingers through his tousled hair awkwardly.

"I-it's not finished. I can't write down anything else. I don't know what, but there's just something stopping me."

Disappointment showed in Aisha's eyes, but she managed a small smile, and gestured vaguely in the direction of the door. "Well… we should go now, otherwise we're gonna get locked up for the night. Hopefully it'll come to you. I'm looking forward to listening to the whole thing someday."

"… Thanks."

For the first time since she had met Elsword, he smiled. _Genuinely_ smiled.

And she smiled back.

It was as if all these months of holding back the feelings they had once shared with each other had returned all at once, and neither of them could resist the rush of happiness and comfort it provided.

* * *

She had changed, having someone who could understand her without the superficial sympathy, the artificial comfort. Things were no better at home, but knowing that she wasn't alone was enough. Even if seeing his arrogant demeanour put her on her nerves, it was evident he was opening up in various ways.

Aisha would meet Elsword every afternoon after school, and every day she would gain a little more happiness, watching him compose more and more of his story. One day, Elsword played out his complete composition for her.

"This part at the end… is kind of uplifting. How do I describe it…? It's unsure, but it's bright as well."

Elsword's glanced towards her and her furrowed brow, and his mouth twitched upwards involuntarily.

"Hope."

* * *

So there's our lovely little one-shot with angsty Aisha and Elsword the pimp.

Don't forget to review and let us know what you think!

Thanks for reading!


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